The gripping storm relishes its moments,
of creating shadows across our land;
They're wide and high with darkness,
and never let go of the journey planned.

We feel them in the weary night,
as the storm gathers them together;
A harrowing sight looming over us,
as we pray for a break in the weather.

Will we be gobbled up by phantoms,
wandering through our nightly pose ?
Or will we escape the nameless horror,
and settle in for a calming repose ?

Cry for angels who'll tell the tale,
of whirling visions that spread their wings;
Apparitions are cursed to dull the pain,
which relieves the shadows' sting.

As they soon fall in the faded night,
and the raging storm relents;
A faithful choir of heavenly hosts,
will rise up as the shadows repent.